What They See

What They See

Don’t want to draw attention to myself,
Everyone knows I know my place.
It’s an over-easy road to hoe,
Reveling in our own complacency.

Each day added and displayed on the shelf,
Nice neat rows show how it should be.
But the weight strains and the supports bow,
Illusions fragile and weakening.

Keep the angle of other’s view just right,
Everyone thinks the strength is there.
Paint to coat the crack that seems to grow,
Believing appearance will repair it all.

Eventually it’s revealed to them,
With luck I won’t be there to see.
And loved ones won’t refuse me,
They’ll excuse me,
For their own sake,
Continue to believe.

                                                                         --William Martin
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